


Promise

by nicole21290



Category: Fleetwood Mac (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicole21290/pseuds/nicole21290





	Promise

It wasn’t the first time. But it was the first time in a long time. His lips were soft, coaxing the inevitably eager response from her as easily as they had when she had been a (mostly) innocent, infatuated teenager. She could feel her heart rate increase as his rough fingertips edged under her blouse, touching her bare skin with a care and a patience that had her shifting on the couch under him, and wasn’t that just ridiculous, the effect he still had on her?

“Gonna have to be quiet, okay?” he demanded more than asked and she would have hit him for his presumption but when his hand closed over her breast she nearly squeaked. God, he really did remember too much. “Door’s locked but...”

SHE had to be quiet? The man couldn’t shut up for even a moment. She reached for him, stroked him through his pants and could feel more than hear his strangled groan against her throat. Good. He should suffer too. As he flicked his tongue across her nipple and chuckled at the shiver that ran through her, Stevie found herself wondering who the last woman who had enjoyed this pleasure had been and whether she would even meas – No. Not now. Not when he was worshiping her body with those intense eyes and those strong hands and that beautiful mouth. There’d be time to overanalyze and contemplate (but not regret) later. “Gorgeous,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her stomach. Oh. She shut her eyes against the emotions. She had wondered, of course she had. After all, her body wasn’t exactly as it had been and he had always liked his women slim and fit. And yet... “Beautiful.”

“Lindsey...” she choked out. “Please.”

“Mmm,” was his only response, as he motioned for her to sit up slightly to allow him to remove her shirt, her bra. She let him. Helped him, even. Finally, she reclined on the couch, bare but for a pair of black panties and Christ, the nerves wracking her body were almost drowned out by her love for him, her love for the expression on his face. He wanted her. Still. It was pathetic to be so gratified by his response, she knew that, and yet... She watched him watching her, his eyes roaming over her possessively. “Can I?” he asked and she nodded, aware of her skin becoming slightly flushed. He’d always found that amusing in light of her lack of inhibitions in bed with him.

He removed her panties swiftly, eyes shining with a familiar warm light of appreciation. And then he kissed her. Sweetly. Sighing, she tugged at his shirt. “Off.” Grinning, he stood up beside her and in a matter of seconds was completely naked. She drank in the sight, satisfied her memory hadn’t betrayed her in this instance. Beautiful man. “On,” she said huskily, beckoning to him and smiled as he laughed loudly, raising an eyebrow. “Eager, Ms Nicks?”

She rolled her eyes. “For you?” she mocked. “Never.”

His body was a pleasant weight on hers when he lowered himself back down to the couch in the small, dark room. “Happy?”

“Yeah. Happy.” And she wasn’t lying. “Love me.”

His fingers had been drumming a staccato beat on her upper arm and she nipped at his lip, wanting his touch on the rest of her. His thumb felt its way to her collarbone and traced gently. He bent slightly, pressing his lips to the curve of her shoulder. “I do. You know I do.”

Her breathing was jagged and she knew he could see the anticipation in her eyes. It had been too long since they’d lain together, skin to skin, lips to lips. Their last coupling, as far as she could recall, had been a quick, messy mostly-clothed fuck against a wall in her bathroom. He’d come too soon and she hadn’t come at all. She was determined this time would be different. Since he’d arrived at the studio yesterday, she’d known that – they’d both changed too much for things to be the same. Maybe, she’d hoped, it would even be like it had been all those years ago, before she and he had royally screwed things up between them.

“Touch me,” he coaxed and she didn’t need more of an invitation than that. It was truly unfair that her appearance was so changed (and not for the better) and his was just so not. His hair was starting to go gray now and she adored it, his thick curls as gorgeous as ever as she ran her fingers through them before tugging none too gently. “I’ve missed that,” he laughed and she met his eyes. She knew it was the truth.

“I’ve missed you,” she said and reached between them, smiling back at him as she closed a hand around his hardness. “I’ve missed this too.”

“You’re ridiculous, Steph.”

“Mmm,” she acknowledged. “True. And you’re ready.”

Groaning, he kissed her hard, fierce. Possessive. “I always am for you.”

“Come back to me in twenty five years and say that, you boastful old man.”

“I think of it as justifiable confidence, darling.”

“Shut up and fuck me already before I go and find someone less irritating.”

“My pleasure.” His fingertips firmed on her thigh and he dropped soft kisses on her hip, his lips and tongue close and yet not close enough to where she wanted them. Desperately. “And it’ll definitely be yours.”

Stevie had always admired how honest he was with her. He kept his promise.


End file.
